20 laps today ... I think I might have had a bit of a break through. It took me about 45 minutes to do that, because I had to stop and catch my breathe a lot. It's to be a 25 yard pool, so that's 1000 yards.
I was actually able to put several laps together without stopping to catch my breath.
Swim: 1000/1750 yds.
Run: 0/1 mi.
Bike: 0/9 mi.
Paddle: 0/4 mi.
Hike 0/15 mi.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Friday, October 10, 2008
Ho Hum ...
So it's Friday night. I remember in college when I didnt have a date on Friday night. I would go and do my laundry at the laundromat and see if I could run into some other person "too busy" to go out on a Friday night. Another option might be to go to the gym, or the pool, or a women's basketball game.
I just got back from the gym, surprisingly it's much busier on Thursday night than Friday. Last night I ran a 1/2 on the elliptical and a 1/2 on the treadmill, 15 minutes on the rowing machine, and did an awesome upper body workout, along with 15 minutes in the spa.
Tonight 15 laps in the pool - mostly freesytyle sprints with a lot of gasping for air in between.
Swim: 750 yrds.
Run: 1 mile
Bike: 0
Paddle: 0
I just got back from the gym, surprisingly it's much busier on Thursday night than Friday. Last night I ran a 1/2 on the elliptical and a 1/2 on the treadmill, 15 minutes on the rowing machine, and did an awesome upper body workout, along with 15 minutes in the spa.
Tonight 15 laps in the pool - mostly freesytyle sprints with a lot of gasping for air in between.
Swim: 750 yrds.
Run: 1 mile
Bike: 0
Paddle: 0
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Oh, to be on Sugar Mountain ...
So, one of the interesting side effects of turning 50 is that you're older in the eyes of the Doctors. When you show up because you've got some gas, or some bumbs on your skin, or a big ugly tick bite that won't heal, they really want to talk about taking blood for tests and several critical screenings for cancer, and they offer as often as possible to give you a perscription that you might need to take for the rest of your life. They really don't have a lot of time for the tick bite you've got that won't heal, and, sometimes, they don't remember why you've shown up for an appointment, even though they asked you to come.
So today I looked over the results of the first panel of "labs" that I have had done, which found that my cholesterol is high, and that my glucose is high. "Did you cheat while fasting?" No. Sorry, I really did fast. There were some very positive things. My PSA results indicate that I probably don't have prostate cancer, although the Doctor didn't actually speak to that directly. It's 0.37 while the acceptable range is from 0.00 to 4.00. Despite a few too many beers over my lifetime, it appears my liver and kidneys may still be working occasionally.
After discussion my normal exercise routine, we decided I should try to manage my glucose and cholesterol with (increased) exercise and diet (rather than take some cholesterol reducing drug for the rest of my life), which the doc was confident wouldn't work. She recommended that "Paleo" diet, which is basically a diet based on foods that man would have eaten prior to agriculture or the domestication of animals. As you see in the picture above, the potatoes and the steak from the dinner during my recent hunting trip, are both perfect in every way. They would both be unacceptable according to this diet, because the potatoes are harvested agriculture, and the beef is domestic. Wild animals that one might hunt or capture, collectable fruits, nuts or berries, or just perhaps generally starving due to the inability to find or capture anything, seem to be the key constituents to this diet. It seems I may need to sharpen my bear hunting skills.
I did recently join the Y near my house. They have a pool and hot-tub, and classes, and weights and machines with tv's. I am not sure how to increase my workout, because I usually climb 3 times a week and paddle once or twice, and then mountain bike once on the weekend. I suspect I need to either one, have more sex, or two, start working out the remaining days of the week at the gym in a very aerobic way. I think I will buy some tight fitting tees, some new shorts, and get a hair cut ... and start hanging out more often at the gym, and see if I can change my exercise pattern.
So -- My new plan:
M-F cycle to gym, work and homeThere's a problem or two with this -- so it's just tentative. Once I squeeze 40 hours of work into this -- there isnt going to be any time to eat, much less gather nuts, fruits and berries.
M W F -- Climb in the AM. 5k Run PM.
T -- Go to the gym and swim AM. -- Weights.
TH -- Swim AM. -- PM, Kayak
training in the pool. Weight training after.
S -- Paddle 8 miles.
S -- Hike 5 miles, hot-tub.
Monday, October 6, 2008
A Year in the Wilderness ...
.JPG)
Alpine Lake in the Rain.
or ... oh man, is it raining.
It all started innocently enough. Vacation ... 7 days in the Mokelumne Wilderness looking for bear. I left Thursday, with a truck load of gear and a general plan to camp near the road at 7000 feet in Hermit Valley. And each day, hike into the wilderness. It's a trip like one I made with my father when I was about 17. It interesting to be car camping again, so many luxuries.
Friday morning I woke with an uncharacteristic warmth to the air and a thin wispy overcast. The predictions for a storm must be true, I thought. Ok -- so it could snow. I can wait it out. I set up camp, and took a quiet walk up the hill to get acclimated and have a look around. It's a brisk 720' climb in about a mile and runs up a rough jeep trail to a knob just above camp. At the top of the hill there is a crisp wind. I am a bit winded.
By the time I return it's raining lightly, just a mist falling really, but falling steadily. I start a fire, cook, eat, and the wind starts to hum a bit above me in the trees. I secure the tent a little better. I test out the ice chest (such luxury ...) by choosing a cold beverage, and set up the chair (a chair?) near the fire. I realize that I have forgotten my rain pants, but put on my ultra-lite anorak. and determine to stand to reduce the water falling on my lower body.
.JPG)
Alpine Lake Still in the Rain
I stoke the fire. A family of European travelers inquires whether I have any "gasoline" for sale ... We have a brief conversation about Markleeville being about 30 miles away. We talk about bears and that the family is traveling from Yosemite. I explain that they will be ok if they have to spend the night in their car, and that here the bears are wild, and the humans have guns, which means that the bears are afraid of the humans, unlike in the National Park. I offer my gas can and they decline ...
It is now raining in earnest. the wind above me has risen to a mild cacophony and ... "I think it's going to really storm" goes through my head. I stoke the fire again and secure the camp against the wind.
The wind rises to a roar in the trees about 150 feet above me. Although I am at 7000 feet, it's still about 2-3000 feet below the tree line. I think that qualifies the climate zone to be subarctic, but just by a bit. Back to the wind. The howling increases, helping my mind to wander. I think of Frost, Thoreau and Whitman, and other great men of the wilderness, I think of Abbey, and John Muir. The roaring above me increases, but it's not really windy here on the ground. Is this what inspired Muir to climb a great tree and whether a storm at the top? The roar continues to increase in intensity.
The rain has been increasing too. The rain in Northern California is different from the rain in Arizona. It can rain 3 inches in 15 minutes in Arizona, and everything is dry 15 minutes later. In California, it takes a day to rain 3 inches and 3 days to dry out. The rain in California usually has an ocean behind it. I think about my dead brother, and how whenever we went camping it rained. I hope I haven't somehow been cursed with that.
That's when I start thinking about my time in the wilderness. The Eel river, Russian river canoe trips, crazy inner tube rides in Cache creek, the Colorado, the Sierras, the redwoods, Yosemite, Puget Sound, the San Juan Islands, San Juan river, and the San Juan mountains, Vancouver Island, Zion, Joshua Tree, the Sisters, the Kalmiopsis wilderness, the Superstition wilderness, and my totally ever present home, the Santa Cruz Mountains. It started before my earliest memories. Trips to the mountains, the country, the wilderness.
I did a brief calculation. Since I am now 50, I have seriously been traveling to the wilderness for about 40 years, usually 2-3 times a year for a week or so. So I figure that it's somewhere around 100 weeks, but since I can't really say for sure, I'll just call it 52 weeks. Which is a year in the wilderness. I've spent a year in the wilderness.
That may help explain why I am standing in the rain, in the dark, when it's about 40° out, staring at a fire, thinking about John Muir riding a storm out in the top of some fir tree, and wishing it would snow.
.JPG)
Camp de Shawn
P. S. For those of you that follow these things, it appears that Snowshoe Thompson has a beverage™ named after him.
It all started innocently enough. Vacation ... 7 days in the Mokelumne Wilderness looking for bear. I left Thursday, with a truck load of gear and a general plan to camp near the road at 7000 feet in Hermit Valley. And each day, hike into the wilderness. It's a trip like one I made with my father when I was about 17. It interesting to be car camping again, so many luxuries.
Friday morning I woke with an uncharacteristic warmth to the air and a thin wispy overcast. The predictions for a storm must be true, I thought. Ok -- so it could snow. I can wait it out. I set up camp, and took a quiet walk up the hill to get acclimated and have a look around. It's a brisk 720' climb in about a mile and runs up a rough jeep trail to a knob just above camp. At the top of the hill there is a crisp wind. I am a bit winded.
By the time I return it's raining lightly, just a mist falling really, but falling steadily. I start a fire, cook, eat, and the wind starts to hum a bit above me in the trees. I secure the tent a little better. I test out the ice chest (such luxury ...) by choosing a cold beverage, and set up the chair (a chair?) near the fire. I realize that I have forgotten my rain pants, but put on my ultra-lite anorak. and determine to stand to reduce the water falling on my lower body.
.JPG)
Alpine Lake Still in the Rain
I stoke the fire. A family of European travelers inquires whether I have any "gasoline" for sale ... We have a brief conversation about Markleeville being about 30 miles away. We talk about bears and that the family is traveling from Yosemite. I explain that they will be ok if they have to spend the night in their car, and that here the bears are wild, and the humans have guns, which means that the bears are afraid of the humans, unlike in the National Park. I offer my gas can and they decline ...
It is now raining in earnest. the wind above me has risen to a mild cacophony and ... "I think it's going to really storm" goes through my head. I stoke the fire again and secure the camp against the wind.
The wind rises to a roar in the trees about 150 feet above me. Although I am at 7000 feet, it's still about 2-3000 feet below the tree line. I think that qualifies the climate zone to be subarctic, but just by a bit. Back to the wind. The howling increases, helping my mind to wander. I think of Frost, Thoreau and Whitman, and other great men of the wilderness, I think of Abbey, and John Muir. The roaring above me increases, but it's not really windy here on the ground. Is this what inspired Muir to climb a great tree and whether a storm at the top? The roar continues to increase in intensity.
The rain has been increasing too. The rain in Northern California is different from the rain in Arizona. It can rain 3 inches in 15 minutes in Arizona, and everything is dry 15 minutes later. In California, it takes a day to rain 3 inches and 3 days to dry out. The rain in California usually has an ocean behind it. I think about my dead brother, and how whenever we went camping it rained. I hope I haven't somehow been cursed with that.
That's when I start thinking about my time in the wilderness. The Eel river, Russian river canoe trips, crazy inner tube rides in Cache creek, the Colorado, the Sierras, the redwoods, Yosemite, Puget Sound, the San Juan Islands, San Juan river, and the San Juan mountains, Vancouver Island, Zion, Joshua Tree, the Sisters, the Kalmiopsis wilderness, the Superstition wilderness, and my totally ever present home, the Santa Cruz Mountains. It started before my earliest memories. Trips to the mountains, the country, the wilderness.
I did a brief calculation. Since I am now 50, I have seriously been traveling to the wilderness for about 40 years, usually 2-3 times a year for a week or so. So I figure that it's somewhere around 100 weeks, but since I can't really say for sure, I'll just call it 52 weeks. Which is a year in the wilderness. I've spent a year in the wilderness.
That may help explain why I am standing in the rain, in the dark, when it's about 40° out, staring at a fire, thinking about John Muir riding a storm out in the top of some fir tree, and wishing it would snow.
.JPG)
Camp de Shawn
P. S. For those of you that follow these things, it appears that Snowshoe Thompson has a beverage™ named after him.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
Fight Gone Bad
I did a little photography on Saturday for FGB @ MadDawgFitness. You can see my photos featured in the post. I am also quoted in the text of the post. It was fun, and I actually worked up a sweat watching all these folks work out. Plus what -- the guacamole was excellent.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Catch a Wave and You're Sitting on Top ...
... of the world.
No kidding. Well, so I didn't actually go surfing. I did catch a wave though. I went to the ocean today in a kayak. The surf was not up much. I took a class in understanding the surf zone (sometimes called the break zone) in a kayak.
There are three zones, the soup -- frothy white stuff, inside the bone crushing, thrash a kayaker, wear a helmet, impact zone, and the shark zone -- which is everything else -- sometimes referred to as the "safe zone."
Notice how many of the words I have chosen sound damaging. Do you wonder why? Well -- it seems slightly more damaging than riding a bike. But not much. I hit the beach, I was rolled like a cigar in a kayak, which was colorfully described as being "Maytagged," which relates, of course, to what a washing machine might do to a person, and I was hammered at least once by an incoming wave. Salt water doesn't really hurt the eyes that much, nor is it too dreadful when inhaled. It seems that the beach isn't all that punishing, in the absence of rocks, or any real serious waves. Although I was a mere mile from Mavericks, I was a long ways from those conditions. It was calm with a NW swell at 3' (probably sounds like I know what I am doing).
You might wonder, "Why would you do this?" I hurt in ways I cannot describe. Unmitigated pain combined with Ibuprofen and the imminent threat of immediate hospitalization. The euphoria often associated with fat tires. I like to work out, and to work hard. Add a small element of fear and surprise, and that's a formula for a good time. It doesn't really hurt that much, and I'll sleep brilliantly tonight. When the sea grabs you and tosses you at the beach -- i seriously rocks, if it's right.
It also clearly beats the hell out of staying in the ocean forever, which would be the other choice. If I can learn to manage the surf zone, I can travel up and down the coast at will. Me, some gear, some food, and a kayak, travelling the west coast to Puerto Vallarta. I can paddle out the gate and go north to Alaska, all under my own power. Imagine that.
There's a bunch of satisfaction in that.
"Get yourself a big board
But don't you treat it like a toy
Just get away from the shady turf
And baby go catch some rays on the sunny surf
And when you catch a wave you'll be sittin on top of the world" The Beach Boys
Growing up on the coast, there's a memorable feeling in spending a day in the ocean. It nas grown and becomes part of me, enveloping me. The saltiness reminds me that there are greater forces at work. Large forces.
No kidding. Well, so I didn't actually go surfing. I did catch a wave though. I went to the ocean today in a kayak. The surf was not up much. I took a class in understanding the surf zone (sometimes called the break zone) in a kayak.
There are three zones, the soup -- frothy white stuff, inside the bone crushing, thrash a kayaker, wear a helmet, impact zone, and the shark zone -- which is everything else -- sometimes referred to as the "safe zone."
Notice how many of the words I have chosen sound damaging. Do you wonder why? Well -- it seems slightly more damaging than riding a bike. But not much. I hit the beach, I was rolled like a cigar in a kayak, which was colorfully described as being "Maytagged," which relates, of course, to what a washing machine might do to a person, and I was hammered at least once by an incoming wave. Salt water doesn't really hurt the eyes that much, nor is it too dreadful when inhaled. It seems that the beach isn't all that punishing, in the absence of rocks, or any real serious waves. Although I was a mere mile from Mavericks, I was a long ways from those conditions. It was calm with a NW swell at 3' (probably sounds like I know what I am doing).
You might wonder, "Why would you do this?" I hurt in ways I cannot describe. Unmitigated pain combined with Ibuprofen and the imminent threat of immediate hospitalization. The euphoria often associated with fat tires. I like to work out, and to work hard. Add a small element of fear and surprise, and that's a formula for a good time. It doesn't really hurt that much, and I'll sleep brilliantly tonight. When the sea grabs you and tosses you at the beach -- i seriously rocks, if it's right.
It also clearly beats the hell out of staying in the ocean forever, which would be the other choice. If I can learn to manage the surf zone, I can travel up and down the coast at will. Me, some gear, some food, and a kayak, travelling the west coast to Puerto Vallarta. I can paddle out the gate and go north to Alaska, all under my own power. Imagine that.
There's a bunch of satisfaction in that.
"Get yourself a big board
But don't you treat it like a toy
Just get away from the shady turf
And baby go catch some rays on the sunny surf
And when you catch a wave you'll be sittin on top of the world" The Beach Boys
Growing up on the coast, there's a memorable feeling in spending a day in the ocean. It nas grown and becomes part of me, enveloping me. The saltiness reminds me that there are greater forces at work. Large forces.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
The Sleeping with the Enemy Playlist ...
... or the testing out the ipod playlist. Anyway -- I bought a new IPod nano. if I could just manage to succeed at downloading a new version of iTunes, everything would be so cool.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Saturday, September 6, 2008
A Kayak at the Pace of Walking
Yep -- I paddled beside a pedestrian, a girl no less. For about
I was thinking I might be able to paddle some twenty miles a day. I guess not. Never mind that. I guess I'll have to drive to Alaska.
I paddled today out towards the bay, I felt the afternoon wind and imagined the bay with it. A large motor boat made a huge wake and I instinctively turned toward it and powered the bow up to meet it. It was large and broke across the bow, ummm ... but this is a kayak. So we just floated along through it.
It's pretty cool.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Monday, September 1, 2008
Friday, August 22, 2008
Hey ... where's Shawn?
Well ... I've been busy ... I learned to do an Eskimo Roll (no, that's not a sushi roll). I am trying to buy a kayak. I want to learn how to read nautical charts and learn how to navigate surf with a kayak. Ummm ... guess where I am going ...
I got my kids back in college. I have a new mountain bike. I have been shooting my bow. I still have a job. I want a real vacation.
I got my kids back in college. I have a new mountain bike. I have been shooting my bow. I still have a job. I want a real vacation.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Friday, July 11, 2008
We the People ...
... spent a couple of days in camp along the Illinois river at Pine Flat. Out in the open grassy flat we found the carcass of a bottle rocket that looked recently used. Fear and anger rise. Fear of being trapped by a fire, and anger that someone would take such a high risk over something so foolish. How could anyone be in this charred wilderness and actually consider using fireworks. To any one that would actually think of doing such an insane thing let me say this: Please don't go into the wilderness to shoot off fireworks, please continue to do that only inside your own house, so the damage will be restricted (hopefully) to only your stuff.
I saw a turkey, and a red fox. The red fox made an cranky, angry, loud, scary, run off your enemies, frightful sound. I have never heard a noise like that except maybe the time I heard the racoon lovemaking -- which is ummm ... really noisy. Anyway -- the fox came by the camp during the night to make that same noise while we were sleeping, or so I heard later.
This is Jim wearing the Albert Einstien hat with grass stuffed underneath it to keep the mosquitoes from drilling through the bandana into his head. I'm an advocate of the Albert Einstien hat, which is a bandana with a knot tied in each of the four corners. Any sculptor or physicist will immediate understand how this turns a flat rag into a bowl shaped hat.
The Sierra Designs Light Year in camp.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Panther Creek to the Illinois River
That sign used to say "Entering the Kalmiopsis Wilderness" or something like that. It was torched during the Biscuit Fire.
The Illinois River.
A carnivorous Pitcher Plant in the York Creek Conservation Area
Ummm ... What is this Yellow Flower? Also in York Creek. Michael Parker of Southern Oregon University has helped me to identify this flower as a California coneflower, Rudbechia californica. Thanks Michael.
Jim shooting a picture
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Day One, Miami Bar to Panther Creek
Day one included a two and a half hour drive from Grants Pass, OR to the Illinois River Trailhead at Briggs Creek near Miami Bar on the Illinois River, and a forty-five minute hike to Panther Creek, where we eeked out a rocky camp. Let's all keep in mind that we are still in the charcoal cathedral.
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The camp at Panther Creek, just outside of the Kalmiopsis wilderness.
Next, York Creek Botanical Area, and the trail to the Illinois River near Pine Flat.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Return to the Charcoal Cathedral
In a few days I'll be going back to the Charcoal Cathedral. On this trip I may actually miss the Biscuit Fire. I don't know because this is new. Everytime I have been to the Kalmiopsis wilderness, I have seen the result of the Biscuit Fire. I'll be going in to the Illinois river at Pine Flat. It's a fair piece upstream from my last trip. 4 days, 1 old river, 2 old friends, 2 old dogs.
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